


Placebo Effect

by paperchimes



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst and Romance, Established Relationship, Gavin doesn't believe it's real, Gavin has trust issues in love, Light Angst, M/M, RK adores him, RK still loves him, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-05
Updated: 2018-08-05
Packaged: 2019-06-22 07:14:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15576615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paperchimes/pseuds/paperchimes
Summary: It'scomplicated.





	Placebo Effect

**Author's Note:**

> Originally a dbh prompt fill for tumblr user [sidiodic](http://sidiodic.tumblr.com)
> 
> The request was ["sharing a kiss"](https://connortastic.tumblr.com/post/176659534418/can-you-do-gavin-and-rk900-maybe-them-sharing-a), but I think I went a little overboard.

_His kisses tasted of menthol and nothing, like the space between the prongs of a cold fork._

“You fucking machine,” Gavin snarled, drawing back barely an centimetre away. He was panting - RK realised - gasping for air through his nose, nothing but his goddamn ego holding his jaw shut. He really did not need to go through so much trouble to keep up appearances though, RK thought pensively. The beautiful image of his disheveled hair and bruised, red lips spoke louder than any expletive he could ever throw his way.

“I love you,” RK whispered, leaning back to press their foreheads together. There was a shaky, deep inhale from the human in his arms.

“I know,” Gavin muttered.

Unfazed, RK continued his gentle assault on the detective’s lower lip, the soft blue glow of his fingertips illuminating the small space between them.

“I hate it when you do that,” his lover lied. “It’s grosses me out.”

“Mm,” was his only answer.

He leant in deeper to suck Gavin’s lower lip between his teeth. Humming softly, he bit down just rough enough to break skin, relishing in the spike of endorphins that surged through his partner’s body. A sound that was more of a whimper than a growl slipped past Gavin’s throat, sending static clicking between his skin and RK’s fingertips.

 _“F-Fuck,”_ Gavin panted, muffled by RK’s mouth. “Fuck, RK, _more_.”

\---

He wondered when they had started having these nightly rituals.

It started off harmlessly enough, with Gavin goading on the “bloody android fucker” Fowler had assigned him about half a year ago.

He recalled it was some time after the dust from the Revolution had settled. Something about work efficiency and partnerships being better than lone-rangers, or some scripted corporate bullshit like that was spewed like the unsatisfactory side of runny potatoes that came with the cafeteria fried chicken. Reed could still recall the question not even Fowler was permitted to answer:

_“Just tell me what you want, Fowler. What sort of numbers do you want to see until you can get the board to reassign this fucking pair of training wheels away from me.”_

The first time it happened, was when they had just solved their second case “together”.

What started as his usual bit of trash-talking had spiked to a level he hadn’t yet traversed with the RK900. It got physical. He could remember the bruise on his collarbone from where the android had to pin him against the wall. The clatter of metal against concrete rang clearly in his ears. Somehow RK had managed to pluck the gun he was brandishing and was emptying out its contents onto the floor.

Deep in the haze of his anger, he managed to feel a pang of dread. Losing his job was all he could think of. Somewhere in the circuitry of the fucker’s CPU or whatever the _fuck_ it had as a brain, an automated recording was being transmitted to his superiors, he just _knew_ it.

He was fully convinced that this was the third strike on his disciplinary record that would send him back to bootcamp, but those thoughts all but dispersed when he felt the cold, tasteless lips of the RK900 press against his own.

\---

Gavin was reminded of his first love, a girl he met in college who spent Saturday evenings curled up against him in his living room. They’d both light a cigarette after sex and Gavin would watch their white exhales drifting in the warm air, melding together and achieving a level of intimacy none of their nights together ever could.

The second time he had sex with RK, he was reminded of his second ex, a guy who confessed to liking him “more than a friend”. The co-dependence radiating from the hapless thing was what repelled Gavin from going any further with him. He hated it. How could someone so respectful become so spineless in the face of “love”? How could someone ever want to spend every waking moment figuring out a new way to show how deep their affection runs? It didn’t make any sense to him. If he could be honest, it creeped him out.

But after each time he melted under RK’s touch, something inside him began to change. He noticed it when he realised that he was _looking_ forward to walking past RK’s desk. This realisation forced him to wonder more and more whether he was falling into the same disease he had resented all those years ago.

Which is why he could never say “I love you”.

\---

The sheets rustled under his weight.

“Time,” his voice was a scratchy drawl, his throat raw and bruised from the night before. The soft glass display on his bedside table glowed a faint [3:14am], to which he turned away from almost resentfully.

Gavin drew in a deep breath.

The pale blue light from his clock was casting his shadow on the white expanse of RK’s back. He shoulders remained solidly in place. In comparison to the soft rise and fall of his own silhouette, androids didn’t need to breathe. It was moments like these that hurt him. Sharp reminders that came up to him like a rude stranger about to sock him in the eye.

“Gavin.”

It wasn’t a question. If he had been human, it would have been followed by “are you awake?” but the asshole was a freaking robot, of course he knew he was awake.

 _“What,”_ he snapped as if it was RK who had woke him.

“Would you like me to hold you?”

And without even expecting to, he felt the tears welling up in his eyes.

“What do you think you fucking asshole.”

Wordlessly now, he watched as RK turned around to face him, his face pensive as always, with those cold grey eyes that spoke of nothing but calculations and probabilities. There were his outstretched arms again, wrapping around him in a way that never failed to break him down.

Gavin hated this. It felt unreal whenever the android said stupid things like “I care for you” or “I love you”. He knew, he was more than convinced that this, all this was all some sort of analytics algorithm thing going on in his core.

He pressed his face against what felt like RK’s collarbone, allowing his temple to rest gently against his shoulder.

Once in awhile, he figured it was alright to indulge in the fantasy that all this was real… and that maybe, _just maybe_ , he was sincerely cared for.

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this, please do drop me a kudos or comment!
> 
> I'm also on [tumblr](http://paperchimes.tumblr.com). Feel free to scream with me about these lovely gay androids.
> 
> Hope each and every one of you has a great week!


End file.
